A taste of immortality


A taste of immortality

Today, during the funeral of my Dad I couldn’t feel exactly sad, despite crying with all the emotions.

Maybe, because I had a sort of mystical experience while I was looking at his dead body. I say it was tantric, because it was not a concept rationalized by my mind, but a state of absorption felt in my cells.

I stared at the corpse of the person that I most loved in this life, and I felt the taste of immortality in my mouth and in all my substance.

I looked to that corpse and it was not him. That body that sheltered his soul for 66 years and that I touched and knew for 37 was not him at all.

And suddenly I was taken by awe and wonder since I could not find any small, diminute hint of him in death. And at the same time, all my body, all my cells knew that he still existed, as life, as flame, as conscience, somewhere.

So I could be in touch with him anytime and anywhere because he existed and so did I and we both shared the same sky above us.

It was also irremediably clear that I could and I would recognize him through eternity, every and each time I saw or felt any material form or body that he could come to put on, in this world or any other.

As we have been doing with each other for eons and eons, over a thousand lives and a thousand deaths.

My Dad, in love we are immortals.

Written in 20/11/2015

By MissKhaosland



One thought on “A taste of immortality

  1. Eu ví…

    Eu ví um pai apresentar à sua filha um primo.
    E um primo conhecer a sua prima.

    Eu ví uma filha despedir-se de seu pai.
    E o pai compartilhar com a filha a data de sua concepção.

    Eu ví uma esposa despedir-se de seu marido.
    E o marido dizer que não há esposa melhor no mundo.

    Eu ví um amigo despedir-se do outro.
    Um o recepcionou à sua melhor maneira.

    Eu ví um irmão despedir-se do outro.
    E o outro escrever em sua lápide seu nome e datas de nascimento e morte.

    Eu ví um corpo sem a alma, e sinto uma alma sem um corpo.

    Entre histórias e memórias ouvi relatos de um homem que viveu e deixou tudo para as pessoas que amava.

    Em seus olhos ví ternura, em sua voz carinho, em seus gestos amor.

    Eu me ví em meu TIO e ví o meu TIO em mim.


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